


Get Out Of Your Pants (And Into Mine)

by thesolemneyed



Series: Fool For You [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming In Pants, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesolemneyed/pseuds/thesolemneyed
Summary: From the second he’d laid eyes on him, he’d thought Minho was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. His bizarre - sometimes scary - jokes stirred up butterflies in Jisung’s stomach. His easy, sometimes overly familiar comfort with physical contact made Jisung feel hot under the collar. The way Jisung sometimes found Minho looking at him with a quiet, unreadable expression made him squirm in his chair.Of course he wanted to sleep with Minho.And so he nodded. “Sure.”***Minho and Jisung FWB. Jisung is bad at communicating.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin
Series: Fool For You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170221
Kudos: 6





	Get Out Of Your Pants (And Into Mine)

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to [Jizz In My Pants](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLnWf1sQkjY) by The Lonely Island for literally the whole plot. 
> 
> Also my lovely lovely Maria - my muse <3

Han Jisung was good with words.

They flowed in his veins like blood. They fizzed through his brain and sparked from his fingertips. He could conjure them with a tilt of his head and deep inhale and they would pour from his lips like offerings.

Changbin and Chan often let him know how much they resented how quickly he could form thoughts and feelings into quick words, into graceful lyrics. He could spin them like silk in a third of the time it took them to even work out their rhyme scheme.

He was famously gifted with words and language and conversation.

Which is why, when Minho looked him dead in the eyes one evening and asked him if he wanted to hook up, he didn’t know how to how to deal with the speechlessness that followed.

Sure, he talked a lot, but he never really _said_ anything. He was excellent at dancing around subjects with clever metaphors. He could spit a thousand words before he made a point.

But he’d never met anyone who was quite as direct as Minho; someone who said things seeming exactly as they formed in his brain, no sparkle, no beating around the bush.

“Huh?” he replied elegantly.

Minho turned his body fully on the sofa, one leg draping on the floor, the other folded half beneath him. “Only if you want to. But we’re both single and we’re both hot so I thought I’d just ask. I’m really not interested in dating anyone at the moment but sometimes you need a little more than your own hand, you feel me? And meeting guys at the club gets boring real quick.”

Jisung’s mind was still whirring at three hundred miles a minute.

Lee Minho thought he was hot?

Lee Minho wanted to sleep with _him_?

Whack.

The Lee Minho in question was still staring at him from his side of the sofa, a quizzical expression on his face. “But only if you want to,” he repeated.

If he _wanted_ to?

Jisung would have to be absolutely, ragingly, totally out of his mind not to want to sleep with Minho.

From the second he’d laid eyes on him, he’d thought Minho was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. His bizarre - sometimes scary - jokes stirred up butterflies in Jisung’s stomach. His easy, sometimes overly familiar comfort with physical contact made Jisung feel hot under the collar. The way Jisung sometimes found Minho looking at him with a quiet, unreadable expression made him squirm in his chair.

Of course he wanted to sleep with Minho.

And so he nodded. “Sure.”

A slow grin spread over Minho’s face. “Really?” he asked. “Hyunjin said there was no way in Hell you’d be down for this.”

Hyunjin knew?

Hyunjin had been told why Minho had suddenly invited Jisung over out of nowhere and not him?

And Hyunjin had doubted that Jisung would be brave enough to navigate his way into Minho’s pants?

Well, there was absolutely no backing out now. Especially if he got to hook up with Minho _and_ wipe a smirk off Hwang Hyunjin’s face at the same time.

“Hyunjin doesn’t know everything about me,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat grumpily.

Minho leaned forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad he doesn’t,” he said with a smirk. His hand trailed down to Jisung’s bicep, his grip tightening minutely as it goes. “Is this okay?” he asked, his eyes dark and his touch blazing against Jisung like a brand. Once again, words escaped Jisung’s reach so he just swallowed thickly and nodded his head. Minho smirked and dug his fingers in a little deeper to the muscle. “You have nice arms,” he said quietly.

A blush was already creeping up Jisung’s neck, mirroring the heat already spreading in his stomach. “Thanks,” he muttered. “You have nice legs.” God, he would need to get better at this if Minho was going to bother with him for long.

“You like?” Minho said, stretching elegantly so Jisung could see his muscles flexing even inside his loose joggers. He nodded jerkily and Minho snorted, leaning in closer to him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his breath fanning against Jisung’s neck, making him shiver.

He breathed out his answer, “Yes.”

Minho huffed again gently, his lips quirking into a grin. His chest was flush against Jisung’s arm now, the heat radiating through the thin material of his shirt. He was slow to lean in, teasing.

Their lips bumped awkwardly against each other, Jisung’s heart galloping in his chest. He pulled away slightly, licking his lips to try and make them less chapped. “Sorry,” he mumbled and he felt more than saw Minho smile.

He leaned back in again, their heads slotting together more naturally now. He could feel Minho’s lips still twisted into a smirk and he moved against him, trying to wipe the smile off his face.

Minho’s left hand tightened again on his bicep and the right moved to tangle in Jisung’s hair, pulling so his head was tilted into a more acceptable angle. Jisung gasped as Minho nibbled at his lower lip and Minho used this to slide his tongue into Jisung’s mouth. He licked lazily at the soft flesh below Jisung’s tongue and, not to be bested, Jisung pushed back.

A groan rising at the back of his throat, Minho leaned heavier into Jisung. He used the hand not in Jisung’s hair to pull Jisung’s hand to rest on his thigh, rubbing up his forearm as he moved to steady himself against the back of the sofa.

There was a heat already glowing inside Jisung’s chest, a light pooling in his gut. Time was slipping between his fingers, loose and liquid. He felt like the buzzing filament of a lightbulb.

Growing bolder, he inched his hand up Minho’s thigh, sighing softly at the hard muscle under his fingers. He used his new grip to pull him even closer, needing contact, needing more.

More than happy to oblige, Minho threw his leg over Jisung and grinned when he hovered over him. “Hi there,” he said, his eyes pools of black.

“Hi,” Jisung grunted back. He let his eyes rove over Minho’s rosy cheeks, settling on his slick, puffy lips. He leaned in to press another chaste kiss against them, moving slowly down Minho’s neck.

Minho’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he nipped at the tender flesh, smiling when the vibrations of Minho’s laugh tingled through him. He carried on down, mouthing at Minho’s collarbone tenderly.

“God, I knew you’d be good at this, sweetheart,” Minho groaned. Jisung’s hand clenched on his hip, seemingly reminding him it was there. “But you’re even better than I thought.”

The praise fanned the flame in Jisung’s chest, the heat ripping through him and making his head spin. He pulled Minho closer and moved back to his lips, suddenly a desperate man.

As if sensing his torment, Minho moved slowly, languidly; his kisses lazy and sweet against Jisung’s starving form. His hand twisted in his hair and he rolled his hips once, barely even a movement.

Jisung whined high in his throat, the noise escaping him before he could clamp down on it. He flushed as Minho chuckled above him, the noise gently malicious. Minho moved again and Jisung’s free hand clawed into the sofa beneath him. He couldn’t seem to get a handle on his breathing.

In his defence, he’d been busy lately and busy meant less free time which meant less…alone time.

In his defence, he hadn’t been mentally prepared for any of this to happen, hadn’t had time hype himself up or steel his nerves.

In his defence, he’d been thinking about Minho’s thighs since the day they’d met at they were now pressed up against him in the best way and the thick material of their sweatpants seemed to vanish entirely.

Jisung groaned, his head falling back against the sofa. His hand spasmed and his hips twitched.

Minho pulled back. “Did you just…?” His lips were deep red and plump.

The stickiness in Jisung’s pants was suddenly mortifying and he couldn’t meet Minho’s gaze. He gulped in air as his eyes prickled with embarrassed tears. “I, uh-“ He cleared his throat. “I need to go home.”

Minho leaned his face down to rest in the crook of his neck, chuckling lightly. The sound made Jisung’s stomach clench. “No, you don’t, Jisung. It’s okay.”

But the heat that had simmered in Jisung’s veins had crumbled into chilly shame. He wiggled free of Minho’s grip, his eyes lowered. Embarrassment flared in his gut as he grabbed his coat off the ground and headed home.

Washing the sticky, mostly dry cum off himself in the shower was one of the most gently humiliating things he’d had to do in a while, and that included collecting an intoxicated Hyunjin from the ‘Lost and Found’ desk at Tesco at three pm.

He staunchly ignored the texts that lit up his phone and threw himself - embarrassment and all - onto his bed and into oblivion.

The next day, Jisung made his way to the place he always found himself when he was too embarrassed to show himself anywhere else: Changbin’s bakery. These four walls had seen too many of his highs and lows to count, but they still drew him back time and again.

The bell twinkled merrily above the door, announcing his arrival. He could hear the radio playing loudly in the kitchen and Jisung called out a greeting.

To his surprise - and slight annoyance - Hyunjin’s face appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He wiped some icing from the corner of his mouth and waved merrily. “Jisung, my dude,” he seemed far too jolly for this early in the morning, “how’s it hanging?”

The music from the kitchen lowered and Changbin hollered a hello, but didn’t make an appearance. Jisung frowned. He liked Hyunjin, got on well with him, but what he really wanted right now was to talk to his best friend without the gangly demon around. Just once. A small part of him muttered that it was easier when they hated each other’s guts, but the rest of him knows that he didn’t really mean it.

“It’s…fine,” he said hollowly, plonking himself down at a table.

Hyunjin hopped over the counter in a fluid, graceful motion that Jisung thought neither Changbin or him would ever be able to carry off. “Hey,” he flopped down in the opposite seat, “it’s okay.” His voice was low. “I told Minho to expect rejection. It’s not going to make things weird.”

Fuck.

Jisung had forgotten that Hyunjin already knew about the whole situation; his later humiliation blotting out the former rage.

He groaned remembering and Hyunjin looked confused. “You did reject him, right?”

Lee Fucking Minho, the most direct communicator in the whole entire world. Why couldn’t he have told Hyunjin this, just this once, so Jisung didn’t have to?

Hyunjin’s eyes went wide at his hesitation. “You didn’t! Oh my God, you fucked Lee Minho!”

“Shh.” Jisung flapped his hands. “I didn’t.” He needed to do damage control. “I didn’t fuck him.”

A smile spread across Hyunjin’s face. “But something happened. Look at you. You’ve got that post orgasm glow. Go on. Spill.”

Did he have a glow? Technically, he had cum, but it had been so filled with shame that he would have thought that would have eclipsed any potential positive side effects. More startlingly, could Hyunjin tell when he’d had an orgasm recently? Because, if so, the implications were mortifying.

“We didn’t really do anything,” he started, unable to meet Hyunjin’s gaze. “We just made out, that’s all.”

Hyunjin was still smiling. “Okay? So why do you look like a deflated eclair? Not enough cream inside you?”

“Ew.” Jisung wrinkled his nose. “Gross.” He took a deep breath. “We didn’t get very far because…because I came in my pants. Like a thirteen year old.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then another.

“Oh, honey,” Hyunjin placed a hand on top of Jisung’s, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about it!? What is there to talk about? I came after ten minutes of making out and some dry humping. I can never look Minho in the eyes again. Actually, I might never be able to leave my _house_ again in case I run into him. This is my last visit outside. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Changbin emerged from the kitchen then, carrying a tray piled high with the pastries for the day. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Jisung came in his pants,” Hyunjin explained.

Changbin turned his gaze to Jisung, one eyebrow raised. “What, like, just now?”

Jisung let his head fall heavily onto the table with a thump.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh jisung sometimes it happens it's okay buddy boo...
> 
> come hang out with me on [twt](https://twitter.com/thesolemneyed) or you can talk to me on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thesolemneyed)


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